


Life is made from stories

by Casstea



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, James and Q have a family, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-15 09:16:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casstea/pseuds/Casstea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Family is the one thing that James and Q did not grow up with. When they leave MI6 together to start a new life in the real world, they find that family is the most important thing there is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life is made from stories

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is fluff, as opposed to anything serious, and this story is written with that in mind (hence James still calling Q ‘Q’ even though they’ve left MI6).
> 
> For my co-conspirator, Rum, as this fic is drawn from the CAPS LOCK conversation on how cute Parent!00Q would be!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own James Bond, this is written for fun and not for profit.

“Tell us a story!” the two small voices chimed in. James chuckled at his grandchildren, who both wore identical smile and garish party hats which had _SIX TODAY!_ written on them in font that made James’ eyes hurt.

“What story do you want?” James asked. The twins, John and Georgina, looked at each other thoughtfully, sharing their thoughts in the telepathic way twins often do, before Georgina replied.

“How did you and Grandpa meet?”

“How did we meet?” Q asked, appearing in the doorway. James smiled at his partner, as the other man circumnavigated the strewn wrapping paper and soft toys which covered the floor.

“Now that _is_ a story,” Q sat down next to James, looping his arm around the ex-agent. James still thought that Q was the most beautiful man in the world, even after all these years. Time might have aged his skin, but his mind was a sharp as it ever had been in his youth.

“Story time?” Marcus, their son popped his head in the door, “I have to hear this one.”

“You’ve heard it before,” Q said.

“But it’s a good story,” Marcus said, squeezing into the small lounge. James and Q’s flat was not large by any means, but it had a certain quality to it that they had both liked.

“Is Emma coming?” Q asked, just as Emma appeared in the doorway, smiling brightly.

“I heard a story,” she said, sitting down with her son and daughter on the floor, “come on then, your stories are always the best, James.”

“Does it involve spies?” Georgina asked, “like in the movies?”

“Certainly,” James replied, “it all started a very long time ago when I met Grandpa in the National Gallery.”

x-x-x

_Some years ago…._

Love was not a thing that James ever expected to experience.

Sure, there had been moments when he thought he had peace, but the nature of his life meant that peace would never be an option. He had given his life, his service, to MI6 and the protection of his country, and no human could ever come between that bond.

People rarely understood what being a spy meant. Sure, they liked to think that it was all sharp suits and snappy one liners, but it was more than that. You became a weapon, honed and sharpened to lethal effect, a weapon who saw darkness in places that most people didn’t know existed. You saw the dark underbelly of the world and did deals with people whose crimes meant you wanted to put a bullet through their skull. You bore the scars, the gunshot wounds and the trauma, even when you left the field. There was a saying in the 00 section that once you got your licence to kill you also gave up your own life. Murder, and that was what it was, was not a clean cut thing. It was messy, it was bloody, and it was personal. At the beginning of his career, James had been young and naive, thinking that what he was doing was somehow removing evil from the world.

However, as he got older, he understood that there were many shades of evil. Morality was not a fixed point, it swayed and flowed like the tidal currents of an estuary. Sometimes James would kill people who were only in the employ of the ‘bad guy’ to feed their family. Sometimes he would have to leave people behind, make deals that no-one knew about. There was a reason that he was such a good agent, it was because he was prepared to go that extra distance to get the job done.

It was quite surprising really after all they had been through that more of the 00s didn’t become philosophers. All they ever did was think _‘did I do the right thing?’,_ or _‘Am I a good person’_ as they placed a bullet through someone else’s skull.

When James looked at Silva through the glass cage, he didn’t see a reflection of himself. No, that would be too poetic. Instead he saw what happened when an agent allowed their mind to break under the stress of the job, when they gave in to their internal battles. Silva was a twisted image of James, distorted beyond all recognition.

Then there was Q.

Most people didn’t understand what it meant to be a spy, but Q did. With Q he didn’t have to pretend to be someone else, he didn’t have to hide the nightmares or the worries. Q understood, because Q was always there with James on his missions, listening in.

It would be Q who would begin reading him Shakespeare on a long stakeout to stop James from internalising his thoughts too much. It was Q who would always rise to James’ jokes and jibes with a sharp comment of his own, yet always send the reply with an understanding gaze. Q never asked why James had lost his gun in the Congo, or run over the radio with a tractor, he merely said ‘ _just keep a better eye on yourself than your property, Bond’_.

Most of all, Q understood James as a _person,_ not some weapon or agent, or legend.

It was natural then, when James asked Q to go to dinner that the Quartermaster accepted without a moment’s hesitation. James would order the most expensive wine on the menu because he never used his salary enough anyway, and Q would lecture him on the new developments of a certain computer language James had never heard of before.

Blind lust turned to infatuation, which turned to caring and compassion. Sure, they fought on occasion, but it was always because James forgot to put the dishwasher on or the cat had brought yet _another_ mouse into the house. Whenever either of them strayed towards work, they would stop immediately. Neither of them wanted to reveal their secrets just yet, and both of them had so many.

It was years later, when James had left the service early because he could, and Q wanted to set up his own company, that they decided to get married. It hadn’t been practical at MI6, but now they were in the ‘real’ world, it seemed logical.

James had been the one to suggest adopting a child, five years later. Q had barely flickered an eyelid, after all both of them had lost so much in their time working for their country it was only natural that they were able to help build a new life for another.

x-x-x

_Present Day…_

“Is that where daddy comes in?” Georgina asked, practically bouncing out of her seat. James chuckled, as the small girl scrambled up into his lap, her eye practically begging for more story.

“I want to hear this,” Emma said, elbowing her husband, “I’m sure there is much dirt Marcus hasn’t told me.”

Marcus looked positively green at the idea of his childish exploits being shared with his wife and children.

“Did Daddy get into trouble?” John asked.

“Is this the story about the broccoli?” Georgina questioned.

“Alright, alright,” Q said, leaning into James, “let Pops tell the story alright?”

The two children fell immediately at Q’s request.

“Alright then,” James said, “our story starts with a person called Nathan.”

x-x-x

_Some years ago…_

“Q stop being so nervous,” James said, as Q checked the window for the tenth time that evening. Marcus was bringing home his boyfriend, Nathan, and Q was both excited and terrified.

“What happens if he hates us?” Q said.

“He’s a 15 year old boy,” James chuckled, “he can’t hate us.”

“I remember someone saying that you were going to get your gun just in case,”

“That was a precautionary measure,” James frowned, “anyway you don’t know what kind of people might try to take advantage of our Marcus.

Q rolled his eyes. James was a very over protective father, as was natural for an ex-00 agent.

“Hardly,” Q said with a smile, “I could always hack the kids’ computer.”

“Now who’s taking extreme measures?” James joked.

The doorbell rang.

Q grinned, dragging James towards the front door. Poor Marcus had been nervous as hell when he said he wanted to introduce his boyfriend.

“You open it,” James whispered, “you don’t look as threatening.”

Q shot James a glare at the remark, he certainly _could_ be threatening when he needed to be. There was certainly one time where the terrorist of the week had scuttled back to their cave when Q had hacked their system and threw on a voice changer on the microphone for the hell of it.

Apparently having ‘the Devil’ speak from the shadows was enough to scare anyone.

Q opened the door, James shuffling nervously behind him. Neither of them had much experience with the idea of bringing a ‘significant other’ home to meet their family, so they were both rather nervous.

“Dad, Pa,” Marcus said, shuffling his feet, his brown hair ruffled nervously in a tick he had picked up from Q, “I’d like you to meet Nathan.”

Nathan was a slim boy, who was about the same height as Marcus, with bright green eyes and sharp cheekbones. Q forced himself not to smile, as they shuffled nervously on the doorstep.

“Lovely to meet you Nathan,” Q said, holding out his hand. The boy shook it nervously, the poor thing looked whiter than a sheet.

“This is James,” Q said, looking around and giving a warning glare to James to _not scare the children._ James rolled his eyes at Q’s silent warning, and put on his best smile, the one which would always make Q weak at the knees.

“Lovely to meet you Nathan,” James said, shaking the boy’s hand, “come on in both of you.”

“I’ll make some tea,” Q said, darting off to the kitchen.

The rest of the day went remarkably well, Q thought. James almost spilt his tea, and the conversation was steered away from awkward silences by the fact that Nathan was a bit of a computer geek and Q had managed to engage him in a conversation over operating systems.

When Nathan had left, Marcus sat nervously on the sofa next to James.

“What is it?” Q asked, as he locked the front door.

“You’re both awesome you know that?” Marcus said, hugging James, and then hugging Q, “Nathan was nervous as hell meeting you guys.”

“We saw,” James chuckled, “the poor lad looked like he was going to blow over in the wind.”

“I think you also said that about Dad,” Marcus replied, as Q frowned.

“Hey I do _not_ look like I’m going to fall over in the wind,” Q replied, sitting next to James, “now whose up for a family movie night?”

“As long as Pa doesn’t start picking holes in the way they use the weapons,” Marcus said.

“It’s a perfectly good observation-”

“James, it’s the movies. Plus I do remember someone once asking for an exploding pen a long time ago.”

“That was a needed requirement,”

“Can I get an exploding pen, Dad?”

“ _No,_ ” Q replied, “you are too much like your father and you’ll probably blow the house up.”

“I only set the toaster on fire,” Marcus said.

“After trying to make your AI system work,” Q smiled at his son, “you’re too much like me to not consider safety.”

“Come on,” James said, picking up the remote and flicking through the films, “I think Jurassic Park is a good one.”

“My favourite,” Marcus said, “if only for the soundtrack.”

“I remember someone requesting a dinosaur cake for their tenth birthday,” Q said, “which was quickly named ‘Rexie’.”

“Dinosaurs are cool alright,” Marcus said, with a smile, “can you play the film now?”

James pressed _play_ on the remote.

x-x-x

After Nathan, there was a Becky, then a George, and then an Andrea. By the time Marcus was nineteen and returned from University for the holidays, James and Q were well practised in the ways of greeting their son’s significant others.

So when Marcus turned up with a girl named Emma in tow, Q and James had the tea made and conversation starters prepped, neither of them expected to have discussion at the dinner table on the weapons use in the most recent _Die Hard_ movie. James had been quite animated as he and Emma were shooting back the realistic chances of bringing down a helicopter with a fire hydrant.

“What you thinking?” Marcus whispered to Q as he smiled at James’ animation. He would have to be careful that James didn’t go to the secret cupboard in the back to their room and talk Emma through the various guns he had ‘acquired’ from MI6.

“That you and Emma remind me of myself and your Dad,” Q replied, “after all she’s into guns.”

“I hardly think being part of the shooting society of the University applies,” Marcus said.

“Says the man who met Emma in the art gallery,” Q smiled.

x-x-x

_Present Day…_

“I hardly think I was _that,_ bad,” Marcus said, “and you didn’t even mention he broccoli incident.”

“I’m not telling the broccoli incident,” James said firmly, as Georgina squirmed in his lap.

“Did you eat broccoli wrong?” Georgina asked, “what about the little men who live in the broccoli tree?”

“Wasn’t it when you cut your finger trying to make dinner?” Q smiled, “I think even for you James that was a new low.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“A&E protested otherwise,” Q said, looking at Georgina and John, “and that is why neither of you should play with knives.”

“Because otherwise the broccoli monster shall get you,” Georgina said, with a serious nod. Being the elder of the two siblings by five minutes meant she always felt responsible for her younger brother, and that meant having to understand about knives.

“What comes next?” John asked, bouncing on the floor next to his mother.

“I think there is a wedding next,” James said, “between your Daddy and your Mummy.”

x-x-x

_A few years in the past…._

“They’re not trying to recruit her right?” James asked Eve. Eve’s smile was one that gave none of her intentions away.

“It’s up to her,” Eve said, “she is a remarkable person.”

“The job breaks you,” James remarked seriously.

“Well she’ll be fine,” Eve said, “I know who her father in law is after all.”

James chuckled.

“And I can actually hit a moving target,” he replied, “how is it being ‘M’?”

“Nothing that you wouldn’t know about,” Eve replied, folding her hands in her lap, “a lot of politicians asking for a lot of things.”

“Just be careful with her,” James said.

“You’re quite the protective father-in-law,” Eve remarked.

“Q threatened to turn all your home pages to the nyan cat,” James smiled, “now _that_ is a serious threat.”

“Lord above, I know the last time he got pissed and made that terrorist believe the Devil had literally appeared in the room with him,” Eve shook her head, “now go celebrate with your husband, I’ve got work to do.”

James nodded, as he got up and shuffled back to his own table. Eve had been invited by some guest or another, but it was clear that she was scouting out a potential recruit in both their son and their daughter-in-law. MI6 kept close tabs on those who would be a potential asset.

“What did she say?” Q asked, as James sat down next to him. Emma and Marcus were dancing in the middle of the dancefloor, each of them enraptured in the other’s presence.

“Probably going to try,” James said, “I doubt there is much that we can do to change either of their minds.”

“If it’s what they want,” Q said, “after all I think you’ll find we managed.”

“That’s different.”

Q wrapped his hand around James’.

“Not really,” Q said, “the new Q was one of my minions. I’ll easily get tabs on their area if they’re sent off.”

“Isn’t that breaching national security?” James asked.

“Eve owes me a few favours,” Q smiled, “she won’t mind.”

x-x-x

_Present Day…_

The twins were sleepy by the time James had finished talking about Marcus’ and Emma’s wedding. Georgina’s eyes slowly closed, as John curled up next to his mother.

“Thank you,” Emma whispered, as Marcus gently lifted Georgina off James’ lap, “I think they really enjoyed themselves.

“You’re welcome,” James smiled, as Marcus and Emma crept out of the room carrying the twins up to their bed.

“Goodnight,” they whispered at James and Q, as husband and wife crept up the stairs.

“Goodnight,” James and Q whispered in unison, as the four of them disappeared, leaving James and Q in the lounge alone.

“I think we did quite well with Marcus you know,” Q smiled up at James, pressing a kiss to James’ lips.

“For two orphans and ex MI6?” James replied with a smile. They were both messed up, both had pasts which had been lived in the shadows, but they had each other to rely on. It was a bond which nothing could ever come between, an understanding between two people whose hearts and souls were tied together as one.

And now they had a family to share their lives with.

_Yes,_ James thought, _I think we did pretty well._

 


End file.
